Her work is titled Ikebana: Black Sun.
At first glance it is dark. Black, white, reminiscent of an old wallpaper in the background. Circles. Two flowers. Or three. This could be one of those how many things can you see.
Walt. I love his patience, his virtue. His sharpness. Duty to his fellow whoever. I appreciate his sadness, his struggle. I want to hold his face in my hands. That face freezing cold on a mountain in a Wyoming winter. But then I'd be freezing, too. And well, just come home, Walt. I want to hug you. Then we'd write letters because neither of us will have a cell phone.
Branch. Is that his name? That boy because how old is he? Good gosh. Strong. Highly capable. Torn in a prideful way. Did someone say beautiful? Holymoly. Child.
Henry. I would change my name for Henry. I would be Shea Blogsalot or Shea Will that girl ever shut up. Something like that. For Henry. Brilliant. Calm. I would tend bar or wait tables just to be close to him.
Ferg. I want to play checkers with him and bring him a present to work.
Cady. I am already jealous of her. It's the Branch thing. But still, I love her love for her Dad, and I love that he calls her Punk.
Vic. It's her doggedness. Her loyalty. A punch. There are no excuses with that woman, and she follows Walt around like a puppy. I love her.
Ruby. I want to have a desk across the office from her. Learn everything she knows about everything.
Wyoming. Brutal. Breathtaking.
Mama says, "Don't take it in all at once."
"I know. I know. But last night was a special night."
Today I am grateful for art and characters and for the opportunity to write about them.